


Smoke and Guns

by Weresilver-In-Space (JuhllyMBS)



Series: Reaper!Bones - Reader Inserts [1]
Category: Doom (2005), Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Gen, John Grimm is Leonard McCoy, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Relationship, Reader-Insert, rated m to be safe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2020-01-06 16:31:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18392138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JuhllyMBS/pseuds/Weresilver-In-Space
Summary: It was supposed to be a simple, uneventful mission. But when it rains, it pours, and as it turns out, the person you should find and report was closer than you expected. Not that it made the day any easier.





	Smoke and Guns

**Author's Note:**

> First ever reader-insert fic. I have been working on this since I finished Bee-hive Behavior on February 7. It's been exactly two months at this, and I hope you all enjoy it!

You leaned against one of the few empty biobeds in medbay, letting out the deep breath you had been holding. The Enterprise was in orbit around Serin for shore leave, one of the three habitable planets of the Sirius binary system, but you overheard that the planet had been occupied by less friendly people. _Territorial_ people. A fourth of the crew was sent down there, and half of them came back up straight into medbay.

It was a chaotic morning because of that. Doctors and nurses were called into duty earlier than scheduled, and you were one of them. The work you found yourself doing, however, was not what you expected. You had a nursing position, but there were no surgeons available to tend to an ensign that had just transferred in, and if no one did anything, she would die of internal hemorrhage. It was an emergency surgery, and the look nurse Chapel gave you had been pretty well burned into your memory.

But you did it. Ensign Jennifer Zafir would be spending some days in medbay, but she would live. You looked up from the floor after catching your breath, only to find the chief medical officer, Leonard McCoy, staring at you with crossed arms. His expression was hard to read, though, and you tried your best to steel yourself for the scolding.

“Nurse Reed?” You nodded minutely. “Christine told me you performed ensign Zafir's surgery.” His voice was as indecipherable as his expression, but he was asking for a simple confirmation.

“I did,” you answered as evenly as you could, “Is something wrong with her, doctor?”

“No, nothing with her,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It's just your surgical training that's bothering me.”

Harris would have your head if he heard of this. You had been sent to the Enterprise to watch over someone your oh-so-beloved superior had only left a vague description of. Your position was in nursing, with a lieutenant rank, in order to avoid attracting too much attention from senior officers; something unlikely to stay true.

“Come with me,” he urged before you could say anything. It was not the scolding you were expecting, but you followed him out of medbay in silence regardless. He had a pretty good pace while walking towards the turbolift down the corridor. You had never personally worked under McCoy in the three months you had already spent on the ship, but you allowed yourself only a moment to be mesmerized by the man's commanding aura as he strode purposefully.

“There’s still a group on the surface that they can’t beam up, apparently.” The doctor turned around, allowing you to walk into the turbolift first. “The captain wants a group of security officers and doctors down there.”

“Okay…” You had to think about those words for a second. The idea of sending more people to the surface didn't sit well with you. “Isn't that putting more officers at risk of being stranded down there?”

“Better to be stranded with people who can keep you alive than on your own, don't you think? Besides, we don’t leave people behind.” His tone suddenly shifted, and for a split second, you thought you had seen some sort of smile as he spoke, “But you can always stay on the ship if you think you can’t handle it.”

“Right.” That smirk was as distracting as you had heard from other nurses, no point in denying that much, but you had your pride to defend. “The consideration is appreciated, but that won’t be necessary.”

“Good,” the door of the turbolift opened again and McCoy continued his stride without a second glance, which caused you to run the first couple of steps after him. “Geoff said pretty good things about you.”

So much for going unnoticed. You continued walking behind the doctor in silence, hopeful that he would take it as awkwardness over the fact that Doctor M’Benga’s been gossiping about you, and maybe he did. The short walk between the turbolift and the transporter room was silent, and the two of you were the last to arrive.

Captain Kirk was standing by the controls, and he frowned as soon as he laid eyes on you. If what you heard about him is anything to go by, you wouldn’t be going on away missions anytime before the fifth month, especially not for a situation like this. McCoy raised an eyebrow at him, with the same commanding body language you had just seen, in something that seemed to ask ‘are you questioning me’, and the captain’s expression somewhat softened.

You couldn’t help but let out a small, quiet chuckle at that silent exchange. The doctor’s pull around the ship was, in the end, due to more than just being friends with the captain.

“Alright,” the captain spoke once you and McCoy were done preparing your equipment, “All we want is our people, so you're going down there to locate them and bring them back.” He once again turned his attention to the doctor, who nodded minutely. “While down there, you'll answer to Doctor McCoy, and if _anything_ happens, you are to return immediately.”

After the captain’s final warnings – standard things he would say in any and all missions he was not participating in himself – you were all transported to the surface, security officers first, and medical afterward. The group was relatively large, with maybe ten or twelve officers in total. You hadn’t exactly bothered to count, but it was certainly larger than a traditional away party.

With a swirl of light around you, the surrounding transporter room became the edge of a yellow taiga, the last location they could get from the group on leave. A cold breeze blew all around you, but the moment’s hesitation ended as soon as the CMO started barking orders beside you. You were separated in pairs, a medical and a security officer in each one. It was then that you realized that the numbers didn't match, and McCoy walked away on his own.

You tried not to think of the risks he was putting himself in as you walked into the forest. The security officer accompanying you tried to make some small talk every now and then, seeing as this was the first time you met, but each of his attempts was met with a glare on your part. Not that you meant to just shut him up, but you’d rather focus on the task at hand.

Some hours passed as you walked, following your tricorder’s reading. It hadn't been more than three hours of walking – and thank heavens the trees’ canopies were fairly large – when you came upon the base of a mountain. The two of you walked carefully, no longer behind the protection of the trees.

You overheard the report to Doctor McCoy as you walked only a few meters behind the security officer. You couldn't mask the sigh of relief that escaped you at the end of their conversation, and… Lieutenant Marple, you were almost certain, turned a glance at you with a faint smile.

“You don't have to worry about Doctor McCoy,” his tone was almost casual. “He does this a lot, much to the captain's exasperation.”

“I'm not sure if that's actually reassuring.” The reply rolled out of your tongue way easier than you expected. You turned your gaze away, and you heard a light chuckle from Marple. It was then that you spotted a cave entrance ahead of you. “Lieutenant.” He followed your gaze and didn't have to ask for your readings. “This is what we’ve been looking for. Four biosigns…” You looked up at the cave, starting your hurried walk toward it. “Three humans and one Orion.”

What you didn’t say: One of those biosigns was dangerously weak. Your steps echoed through the cave entrance and some startled eyes turned in your direction. A voice rushed you in, and once your eyes adjusted to the dim light, you could recognize Gaila’s hands pressuring someone’s wound. You told Marple to stay closer to the entrance and out of your way as you worked.

“What happened?” You glanced at Gaila as you knelt beside the unconscious man. “Is there anyone else around here?”

She shook her head. “No. Not alive, anyway…” You sighed and focused on the ensign in front of you. It looked like a relatively small wound, something that seemed to be a burn mark, but it was open and bleeding. “They were some sort of insectoid aliens, it was hard to see. They moved fast.”

You hoped your second of hesitation went unnoticed, but you went through the motions regardless. First, antibiotic and analgesic, and then a proper look at the wound. It _was_ as small as you first assumed, but it dug deeper than usual for even the most precise guns.

“You are _absolutely_ sure there is no one else?” Maybe your tone was misplaced to the lieutenant, but you had to make sure. The orion officer nodded solemnly, and you walked out of the cave, taking your communicator into your hands. “Alright,” you breathed in. You flicked it open and spoke in a general frequency. “This is nurse Reed,” you kept your voice level, “Lieutenant Marple and I have located the missing group, but there were some casualties.” You turned back, quickly analyzing the situation of the others. “There are officers injured, and one of them is in critical condition. Requesting immediate assistance in relocating them for beam up.”

All the other four pairs acknowledged and started moving. But not McCoy. You didn’t think the CMO would be the type not to respond, but you had, at that moment, other worries and duties to think about.

You walked back inside and straight to the unconscious ensign, his gold uniform bearing a large stain of red. You brought a small, portable version of the dermal regenerator, unsure if you’d use it but glad you had it then. You made two passes over the wound, enough to stop the external bleeding, but he wouldn't last long like this.

Gaila offered to keep an eye on the boy as you moved over to the others, treating whatever injury you could and making do for those you couldn't. You didn't keep track of time, you couldn't, and it seemed to fly by anyway. The rest of the away team hurried inside, startling you into turning around. You quickly counted how many officers had just arrived. Four security, four medical, and none of them was the doctor you expected to see.

“He has a heavily bleeding penetrating wound,” you told the two doctors that approached as you dug into your pocket. “He needs medbay right now, there'll be no time to move him out of this taiga.” You took out a small device, similar to a transmitter of the early 22nd century, and handed it to the closest doctor. “That should help with transporting out of here.”

Before anyone could say anything, you were already at the edge of the cave with your communicator in hand, trying to get in contact with a CMO you were positive would do better than this sort of radio silence. You would be hard-pressed to admit you were concerned about Leonard McCoy, given what you knew of the man, but you had a _feeling_. And you were never one to ignore gut feelings.

“Stay with the others,” you said as you passed by Marple. He tried to stop you from walking away, but he would have to be considerably quicker than that. “If I’m not back _with_ Doctor McCoy in about half an hour, just beam back to the ship.”

You walked in as much of a straight line as the surroundings would allow it, ignoring the small protest that came from behind you. The taiga was extremely silent save for the rustling of the leaves. You kept your eyes focused ahead, but also paid attention to your tricorder readings. There was no sign of animal life in spite of how favorable the atmosphere was, but the plant life grew in annoying abundance.

The trees made it hard to gauge how many hours had passed since you arrived on the planet's surface, as the sun was well hidden by the canopies, but the cold breeze led you to believe it wouldn't take very long for the night to fall.

There was the first beep. You looked down at your tricorder, almost believing yourself to have just imagined it, but it happened again. It finally picked up an animal biosign. You adjusted settings in a hurry, trying to further identify whatever it was.

It was a group of biosigns. A single human life form amidst half a dozen unidentified signs. Your heart skipped a beat once you realized that half of those signs were quickly moving in your direction. You turned to the signal's source in time to see a hovering green alien ram into you, sending you flying against a tree or two. You were knocked out on the first impact.

You couldn't tell what happened other than how much your head and back were throbbing. You groaned at the brightness seeping into your consciousness, trying to rub your eyes but your hands didn't move. You tugged at whatever kept your wrists behind your back, but a low grumble startled you into proper wakefulness.

“I'd appreciate it if you didn't pull at it so hard,” a voice drawled behind you. “It's tight enough as is.”

“Doctor McCoy.” You tried to sound sure, but it was hardly more than a guess. “Are you alright?”

He huffed a chuckle. “Well, I wasn't the one flung through some trees, was I?” _That would explain the pain._ “What the hell were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that this ship’s CMO wouldn't pull some dumb radio silence for no reason.” You shifted in place, adjusting your back on the metal pole. Your wrists were tied behind you with the same rope as McCoy's, keeping you from looking at each other. “Besides, we don't leave people behind, do we?”

He couldn't see your face, but you were sure he caught the challenge in your tone. “The others?” He asked flatly.

“Lieutenant Marple and I found the missing group. Three casualties and some injuries, but the other doctors are with them.” His sigh of relief was pretty well audible, followed by a beat of silence. “You know,” you continued with a sigh of your own, “You not being one of the first to show up rose a few flags.”

McCoy drew in a breath to reply, but the hiss of the closing door drew your attention towards the left and you stared at the approaching figure. They were tall, with rangy limbs and solid yellow eyes. The lack of irises or pupil made it virtually impossible to tell where they were looking. It was an eerie stare if you could call it that. The alien’s shape was humanoid, but the details certainly were not.

Whoever that was, walked in near silence towards you and McCoy. The alien opened their mouth, moving their extra mandibles to create a series of clattering noises. Some form of communication, you assumed, as three other aliens, slightly shorter and greener than the first, entered afterward and the silence returned as the figure, now in front of McCoy, closed their mouth.

“You had said there was no one else,” their voice was melodious in the Federation’s standard language, and the thin lines on their cheeks couldn’t betray the sliver of anger in their voice as the doctor was forcibly raised to his feet. “Who is that?”

With wrists tied together, McCoy took you by the arm in order to get you on your feet alongside him. You stumbled up with a grunt of surprise, and he glanced back the best he could before saying, “Apparently, someone _a little_ more spirited than they should be.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the comment, but the clattering noise started again and one of the aliens stood in front of you, a gun pointed at your chest. You tensed at the sight, desperately hoping that it was your mind playing tricks and not the experimental gun you treated so many injuries of before your transference to the Enterprise.

You felt the knot on your wrist loosen, and the doctor finally let go of your arm. You looked backward in time to see him be dragged out of the room you were in, and the alien tying your wrists once again hissed at you. Soon, it was only you and your personal ‘bodyguard’ left in the room.

You took the moment to circle around the spot you were stuck on and to analyze the room in search of a decent escape route. The pole was off to a corner, likely a tent made permanent and, if that were the case, it would prove… Interesting to get out.

The alien fully opened his mouth, making more of that clattering noise you really could only hope was an attempt at conversation.

“One hell of a language you speak, buddy,” you muttered, sitting down again. It was a matter of time. Well, maybe also of opportunity, but you didn’t want to spend any extra minute in there that you didn’t have to. “Who was the tall one?” You asked while fiddling with the rope. “The one who actually knew how to communicate?” The insectoid alien merely looked up at you. “She looked and sounded in command. At least I think that was a female.” You were not concerned with the details, but the rope was finally coming loose and the alien was still unmoving.

You sighed, admitting to yourself that waiting was probably the best option. They were the armed ones, and you’d rather not get shot if you could help it. It didn't take long for the alien to start pacing around the room, seemingly impatient. Behind them, you noticed a panel on the opposite wall, apparently disconnected from the devices in the room. Maybe it was due to different technologies, but you were glad that none of them noticed the fake wall attached to it.

Your attention laid on the alien walking back and forth lest they realized your intention of making a run for the nano-wall. You tried to keep track of time, but impatience got to you after forty minutes. As soon as the insectoid walked past you, you jumped to your feet, letting go of the rope and hitting their neck with your elbow. You gave them no time to react before throwing a punch to their face as well, knocking them out. You made sure they were truly out cold and after you reassured yourself, you punched in your personal code on the panel, relieved once the wall became permeable.

As you expected, the corridor that stretched out after the nano-wall was empty and below ground level. If you knew the builders as well as you expected to, this entire section was separated from the main building. You entered the same code, closing off the corridor, and walked down the pristine clean corridors with silent steps, paying close attention to whatever sound reached your ears.

The clattering once again drew your attention, this time towards an air vent to your left. It was close to the ceiling and reaching it proved a little more painful than you would have liked. You took in a sharp breath due to the twinge you felt on the left side of your torso, but you removed the grate with no problems otherwise.

You crawled through the relatively small vent slowly enough to be silent, following the loud and, you would assume, angry noises of those aliens. The closer you came to your apparent exit, the better you could hear the small grunts and some honest to goodness laughter. Human laughter, specifically, because you were unsure if the aliens’ vocal cords could do what you were hearing.

“ _I'm sorry if you think this will go anywhere._ ” You finally heard Doctor McCoy speak, although in between chuckles that were all too worrisome for you. “ _Beating me up wouldn’t help ya even if I knew what you wanted._ ”

Your breath caught in your throat as you reached a grate. You could see McCoy standing up, his back turned to you, tied to some equipment you didn't recognize. The aliens were still clattering, talking among themselves. The two smaller aliens were being particularly loud, pointing their guns to the doctor, and their apparent leader stood tall in comparison to him, with something that looked similar to old brass knuckles in her three-finger hand.

“Answer,” she demanded, trying to impose herself.

“Already did,” McCoy straightened in response. “Can't beat answers outta someone who doesn't have them.”

A punch was swiftly thrown against him and he let out a grunt, leaning towards his right. The alien said something you couldn't make out and stormed off with the other two, leaving McCoy alone. You started pushing against the metal grate instantly, and it quickly gave in. In spite of the noise, nothing immediately happened, and you made your way to the doctor in few large steps.

“Doctor McCoy,” you called as he spat some blood to the side. “Are you–”

He looked up at you, taking in your admittedly tired-looking presence with a stern expression. The cuts and bruises he bore were closing and fading far more quickly than anything you had seen, and that interrupted whatever thought you had for a moment. You started working on getting him out of the new restraints before he could protest to anything.

“What the hell are you thinking?” He asked lowly through gritted teeth after you were done. “If you had the chance to escape, you should’ve just taken it.”

“Then what was that about not leaving people behind??” You snapped with another sharp, painful intake of breath, but it didn’t show. “God, do you have a death wish or something?!”

You were well aware of the existence of an augment within the Enterprise and of their healing ability. After Khan Noonien Singh, everyone seemed to think that anyone not _imperfectly_ human was out for blood or something the like. Section 31, in particular, seemed to have made it their primary mission to get rid of them all. Looking at Leonard McCoy, however, you questioned if this so-called ‘Reaper’ could really pose a threat to anyone within the Federation.

McCoy, on the other hand, stood silently as if weighing his options. “Maybe I do,” he eventually mumbled, pacing around the room.

You watched him, half amused and half impatient. Your time serving on this ship had just become far more interesting, and the thought caused you to let out a chuckle.

“Sorry,” you said once you found yourself under his scrutiny. “I, uh, I came from over there, you know. Nano-wall, and whatnot,” you pointed towards the air vent you crawled through, “And I feel like it might be a better idea to stick to it.”

He rolled his eyes, and you expected some protest, but instead, all he said was “Lead in” and you couldn't help but narrow your eyes at him for a second before going back in. You stopped at the first intersection, considering a change of direction.

“Don’t tell me you forgot your way through,” McCoy quipped behind you.

“I could kick your face right now,” you glared back at him. “Just for doubting me.”

“Pretty sure that would warrant disciplinary action,” he said flatly. “You know, attacking a superior officer and all that.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes and turning your attention forward again. “Pretty sure you’d need proof for that, Reaper.” You were certain you heard a soft gasp, and you grinned to yourself. “Going back through the nano-wall seems risky,” you noted, more to yourself than to him, “It’s a big door to open up with god knows how many aliens around.” You finally started moving again, committing to the change in direction.

McCoy hummed a short acknowledgment but he was silent for the remainder of the crawl, which was not entirely comforting. “The mess hall,” you whispered once you reached a new grate. “Should be safe.”

You lightly pushed the grate out of its place and crawled out of the vent for, hopefully, the last time for the day. You stood aside so the doctor could come out as well, and he got up with a glare that screamed ‘you owe me answers’.

“What did they want to know?” You asked, barely above a whisper.

“What the hell this place is,” McCoy answered, gesturing to his surroundings. “And I gotta say, I'm curious myself.”

You let out the deepest sigh you could without wincing in pain. What a beautiful fluke that day had become. “Later,” you said. “Right now, we should just get out of here.”

There was a brief moment of unspoken understanding between the two of you, at least about the current situation, as you approached the door. McCoy took hold of your arm, stopping you before the proximity sensor could open the door. “Where the hell are we going?”

“Medbay.” You were almost casual in your reply. “It's just across this corridor and should actually lead outside.” He let go of your arm but you stayed still for an extra moment. “That is if they actually deactivated the test area,” you added quietly.

“You sure seem to know the place.”

“Well, this was my posting before the Enterprise,” you admitted. You approached the door without another word, waiting for maybe a minute after it opened for any sign of movement outside, but nothing happened. You took slow steps out, breathing as calmly as you could, but with the decreasing adrenaline, came a throbbing pain that matched your rhythm.

McCoy was close by, and you had the feeling he paid more attention to your current condition than to the path you were leading him. The corridor seemed to stretch on for longer than you remembered, but it was still eerily silent. You blamed the chaos of the day and your current exhaustion for your lack of attention, as the doctor pulled you back before you could be hit by a plasma shot.

Your pained gasp was drowned out by the loud clattering, but not a lot would hide the face you made over the forcibly deep breath you took. McCoy kept you against the wall as he waited for the alien to walk by. In one swift motion, he disarmed the insectoid, and, in another, knocked them out. That had to be trained, and the precision in strength and placement would need more of it than his time in service for Starfleet would give him.

But Leonard McCoy was still a doctor. Just like you were, in spite of Section 31’s orders. He got up after making sure the alien was simply out cold and reached a hand out to your left side. You flinched slightly, realizing then just how sore the area was.

He pulled back immediately, looking at you with concern. “When were you going to tell me about this?”

“I, uh…” You would have sighed if you could keep the air in for long enough. “I wasn't planning on it,” you tilted your head to the side slightly. “I mean, I think getting out of here is a bigger priority.”

McCoy was about to argue, of course he was, when a new series of clattering echoed through the corridor. He looked to the direction the first alien had come from and cursed under his breath. You pointed forward on the path you were already in, to the direction of your way out of this outpost, and started moving again.

The doctor seemed intent on moving at your pace. On the one hand, it wasn't as bad as it could have been. ‘Stranded with someone who can keep you alive’ and whatnot. On the other, you wondered just how bad your ribs were looking for you to think of it at that moment. These corridors really stretched on forever.

There was a new clattering noise to interrupt your thoughts. It was loud and closer than you would ever be comfortable with, coming from behind the two of you. By some instinct, you turned around in time to see another of the insectoid aliens taking aim and firing. Without thinking, you threw your body against McCoy’s, shoving him to the side and falling on top of him on a different corridor.

“Shit, sorry– I’m sorry,” you muttered while rolling off of the doctor, feeling a brand new kind of pain, this time on the left side of your hip. You weren't looking at him, as the burning sensation took most of your attention from anything else, but you caught a glimpse of McCoy moving to cover you from something and, as quickly as if it was all meant to be one smooth movement, he got up. You were not sure of what he was doing, but you could see the growing red stain on the side of your medical uniform, as well as the broken fabric surrounding the apparent burn.

You tried poking at it for a brief moment in order to pull the uniform away from the wound, but McCoy crouched beside you before you could touch it. “Not here,” he said, bringing you to your feet again. You spotted the second unconscious alien not far from where you stood. “How far is medbay?”

“It’s close.” You tried walking. The first step was slow but manageable. However, as soon as you put your weight on your left side, the jolt of pain threatened to send you crashing down. You thanked whatever entity would take credit for how attentive one Leonard McCoy was when he caught you before your leg gave in. “ _Fuck_ ” you whispered as he pulled your arm around his neck, gently putting a hand on the other side of your waist to keep you up. “Shit, I'm sorry.”

He shook his head and let you dictate the pace. Against what was likely the better medical judgment, you walked as quickly as you could up to the panel at the end of the corridor. You pulled your left arm away from McCoy's hold and typed in an old passcode you hoped would work. The few seconds of silence felt like an eternity, but the door opened with a quiet swish.

You looked around your old workplace, somewhat smaller than the Enterprise’s medbay. You could never say you missed it, and the place looked particularly desolate with none of the equipment it would normally have. Well, at least that confirmed that this entire complex had in fact been deactivated.

You were taken to the cleanest bed that McCoy could find, and he didn't need to tell you to lie down as the plasma was still eating away at your skin. You took as many deep breaths as you could, but all it did was change the focus of the pain from your hip to your ribcage. You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to focus on the shallow breaths you could take instead.

“Come on, now,” McCoy spoke, suddenly close to you once again, and you felt a hand over your wrist. “You were doing one hell of a good job on staying conscious.”

You opened your eyes, and it seemed that more time had passed than you realized, seeing how the doctor had rummaged through the few cabinets that were still around. You looked at him once he took his hand away from your pulse. He was standing close, his blue uniform looking a little more battered on the right shoulder than when you had last looked at him. Your focus fell on his hands and the small vial he had just put down on the table.

“Peroxide,” you read, barely above a whisper. “I'm surprised they left anything here.”

“Well,” McCoy turned you on your right side, so he could actually see the wound, “They didn't leave more than that and some bandages.” He met your gaze with a gentle expression that you hadn't seen in god knows how long, slowly pulling up your uniform. You flinched minutely when the fabric grazed the burnt skin, and the doctor slowed down even more. “Sorry, my bad. How about uh, you and I have a little chat in the meantime?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, aware of what he wanted to get into. “Ask away,” you replied without much choice. “It's not like I could change your mind right now.” McCoy let out a small chuckle that died out when you squirmed at the peroxide wash.

“Alright, just keep it together, Reed.” He gave your shoulder a light squeeze, then continued cleaning your wound up. “So, let's start with the basics, who are you?”

“You saw my file already, Doctor.”

“I did. What's beyond it?”

You let out a sigh that seemed to surprise McCoy a little. “Section 31.” He glanced at you after those words but remained silent. “Yeah, I know, stupid idea, don’t need to call me out on that one.”

You shifted slightly, and the doctor gave you some space to adjust on the bed. There was a moment of silence before his next question. “This place…”

“Weapons test,” you interrupted. “Everyone’s afraid, Reaper.” The silence that followed meant he knew exactly what you meant. “Sorry,” you whispered, allowing your eyes to close again.

You mentally cursed at the filters you didn't seem to have at that moment. It was just a beat of silence, but it seemed to weigh you down onto the bed.

“What was being tested here?” His voice broke the silence with none of the teasing or southern charm it had until that point. The seriousness was mildly unsettling, and enough proof to you that this really was Reaper.

“You know,” you adjusted yourself again, “I kinda expected it to be the captain,” you mumbled as McCoy wrapped the wound in the bandages he had found. “He avoids medbay like the plague while you almost live in there.” He brought you up to a sitting position and the sudden change caused you to open your eyes, staring at the doctor. “How the hell did you stay so well hidden?”

“Perks of being CMO,” he said flatly. You were about to question him further when one of his hands reached out to cup your cheek in order to gain your attention, and your breath caught in your throat. “Reed. What was the weapon?”

“I don’t know the details. I’m a doctor, not some weapon specialist,” you grumbled. The look on McCoy’s face seemed to brighten up for a moment, and you couldn’t help but frown at that admittedly small change. “What is it?”

“I had a feeling you weren't quite a nurse.” You rolled your eyes and jumped out of the bed. McCoy immediately gave you some support with a less than content expression. “Hey, take it easy, these bandages are far from what you actually need.”

“I appreciate the worry, but my health is not what we came here for.” You walked around, pushing some cabinets out of the way as McCoy stood back, seemingly aware of how well you knew your old medbay. “There you go,” you said once you finally reached a door behind one of the cabinets. “The test area was connected to medbay,” you explained before the doctor could ask. “Not… Very safe, but practical.”

You instinctively placed a hand over the bandages as you opened the door, suddenly aware of the reason behind your patients’ complaints. Save for the large central equipment that had obviously been taken, everything was the same as you remembered. McCoy looked around from the door, and you weren’t surprised to see his attention directed at the only computer that turned on when you entered. You were, however, surprised to see him tense, with clenched fists hanging beside his body and, you could swear on it, looking a little paler.

“Doctor?” His head snapped at your direction with a gaze that sent chills down your spine. “Is everything alright?”

He gave a few steps toward you, suddenly more soldier than a doctor. “What was the weapon?” He repeated his question, his posture far more commanding than anything you had seen until that point. _Ah, how it suddenly made sense._

“I told you, I don't know the details.” You swallowed hard. The heart that was beating against your ribcage made it all too difficult. “What I do know is that the design didn't come from the Federation.”

“No, it's older than it by a century,” he commented with a sigh. He took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose as if falling back into a persona. “What the hell are we even doing here?”

“We are getting out of here,” you were quick to reply and just as quick to head to the door across the room. You typed a passcode not your own and you honestly had no idea if it would work, but it did. You opened the way to McCoy and turned to speak to the computer. “Lock all doors of this complex as soon as we are out of here.”

The two of you walked out with a decent pace. The sky was already dark, and you looked up on multiple occasions until you were back in the woods. You had no idea how much time had passed, but it wasn’t dark when you left Marple behind. Hopefully, the rest of the crew was safe on the ship.

You were headed as straight as you could, with some degree of certainty as to where you were going, while McCoy walked close behind you. You could feel his stare, but at that point, you could no longer tell if it was because of your forced pace or of some kind of annoyance. Not like you could really tell what anything was in there.

There was some faint light in the form of glowing flowers, bright enough to make a path visible, but not much else. In any other situation, you were certain the sight would have been amazing. A gust of wind was the only source of sound other than your steps, and the cold made you shudder. You did your best to keep your heartbeat under control, but the lack of deep breaths was making it difficult. That, and the goddamn roots on your way.

“ _Shit,_ ” you grumbled, using a nearby tree for support after nearly losing your balance. “Why didn’t they just make a path…”

“Path to where, exactly?” McCoy said, standing beside you. Were you really that slow that he was able to accompany you on a walking pace? You shook your head as an answer. “Just how far are you trying to walk?”

“There's… There's a water station, about…” You trailed off, trying to remember the distance. “Five kilometers from here, or something.” You glanced at him, as he stood with crossed arms to your right.

“A water station?” You nodded, trying your catch your breath. “Should've known something was–” You tried to resume walking forward anyway, but McCoy caught you before you gave the first step. “Hey, what the hell are you thinking?” You straightened at his question in spite of your aching body and let your face show what your voice couldn't muster. He sighed. “You're in no condition to walk five kilometers.” Once again he took your left arm over his shoulder. “You are barely paying attention to the ground in front of you.”

In an admittedly much more comfortable pace, McCoy helped you walk once again. You were well aware that you should probably have admitted how exhausted you were, between broken ribs and open wound alone, but you would rather do that on the ship. The walk was mostly silent, with only some corrections on the path.

McCoy stopped some good distance away from the complex, a simple, but wide two-story building with few to no windows. He turned to you for some kind of confirmation; one that he promptly received in the form of a quiet nod. The last stretch of the walk was an easy one, and he opened the door with a simple press of a button. There was more of a casual leave outpost look to the inside, although it still felt somewhat desolate.

“Alright, secret agent,” he started, looking around, “What's in here for us?”

You chuckled at his words, something you quickly came to regret. “Drinkable water,” you said after breathing away the sharp pain in your torso. “Open comm system on the second floor.”

You were sure McCoy considered dumping you on one of the couches of the common area once you saw his discomfort at carrying you at that point. He pulled his right arm away from your waist on many occasions, the same shoulder you noticed that looked worse for wear. You tried to pry your arm away from him, but his hold tightened instead. “You're not getting out of my sight.”

He was careful on his walk upstairs, giving you some much-needed support. You kept your eyes on his face, however, and the small changes in his expression were enough to turn your stomach. He was injured. _Actually injured._ Section 31 had actually succeeded in developing a weapon to ‘hunt augments’ with, and you knew that would mean simply hunting any species that could even remotely threaten the Federation.

“How long till they figure out how to leave?” You asked rather weakly once you sat, almost sideways, on a chair in the comm room. McCoy glanced at you with furrowed brows while working the equipment. “What? It’s definitely going to happen.”

“You should stop talking and save some energy,” the doctor spoke dryly, and silence settled between you two. Until he sighed, minutes later. “I guess we’ll find out if this worked or not soon enough.”

“Might as well sit down,” you looked between McCoy and one of the other chairs. “I promise they are not bad.”

He huffed a laugh and pulled a chair to sit in front of you, leaning slightly forward. You must have looked like a wreck because, under the stern expression, you found some semblance of worry once again.

“You must really not like what you’re seeing,” you commented, a little uncomfortable under such close scrutiny. “If you have something to say, just say it, because I’ll _crash_ if I stop now.”

The doctor remained silent for another moment, but eventually said: “Just thinking why you would risk exposing yourself like you did this morning.”

“She would’ve died,” you gave him a simple shrug. “Thought she was too young for that.”

A smile appeared on his face, albeit small and quick. “Wouldn't it be easier to stay a doctor, then?”

You looked away with a sigh, pondering for a moment just how to reply, and the hesitation didn't go unnoticed by the doctor. You ended up opting for a change of subject. “How long have we been here?”

“Planetside?” You nodded. It seemed as if he understood the message. “I'd say about six hours, give or take.”

You rested your head against the chair. Six hours on the planet plus a few in medbay would make for something close to ten hours of activity. You were exhausted and some good rest would be welcome, preferably in a functioning medbay and away from hostilities. A new silence settled, neither comfortable nor awkward, and you didn’t know what to take from the situation.

For the next while, you shifted on the chair, grimacing at every unfortunate pull that sent a jolt of pain through your body. McCoy let out a sigh of his own and got up, presumably in order to move you, but a noise downstairs, which you barely registered, drew his attention away for a second. There was a moment of hesitation, but he got you on your feet. You finally heard the steps coming from the floor below as you walked to the door.

McCoy looked at you with some expectation of directions, but you shook your head in response. The building was wide but only as a means of housing some bedrooms, and there was no other way downstairs. He took a resigned breath and started going down with careful but quick steps.

About halfway down the staircase, the intruding steps seemed distant again, but your accidental caretaker still looked tense, as if he was hearing something you were missing. He could as well be. McCoy abruptly stopped, letting go of your arm faster than you could begin to guess what he was doing.

He continued down on his own, considerably faster but still as silent. You mentally cursed at the clearly terrible idea, but there wasn’t much you could do. If you even could do anything at all. You leaned against the nearest wall, barely holding yourself up. A quick glance down your body confirmed what you already felt: Your wound had resumed bleeding. You let your body slide down to the floor, trying to adjust yourself so you didn’t pull your leg too much.

Oblivious to the sounds around you, you only looked up as you caught a glimpse of McCoy in the corner of your eye, stumbling back up. He tried lunging forward but was thrown back against the wall, and you could tell he felt his shoulder. Your brain finally registered the consistent steps that were coming up and you involuntarily straightened. You _really_ needed to work on that subconscious, painful habit.

“I assumed you were different from the other humans we hunted,” that familiar, melodic voice spoke as the alien walked up the final steps. She glanced at you and turned the gun in your direction. You turned your eyes to McCoy, who had a hand over his right shoulder. “Your species is curious. I doubt this one will take it as well as you.”

The insectoid walked up to you and your breath hitched when she yanked your arm upwards in order to bring you to your feet. You grunted in pain as you stood up but made sure to look her in the eyes, as challenging as you could be.

“I wonder how much you could give us.” There was some hint of a smile on her face. “As far as information goes, you could be a rather valuable source, _agent_.”

“Oh,” you spoke in low volume, but there was some genuine surprise in your voice. “Didn't expect you lot to be able to access the files.” You let out a faint, tired chuckle as you saw McCoy get up. “I figured you were the ‘hit first, ask  later’ ty–”

Yeah, they moved swiftly, but she was _a blur_. The sudden punch to your already painful wound sent you reeling sideways. The grip you felt on your throat and the thud your back made against the wall were your only indication of your situation. You were on eye level with this commander, unable to breathe.

“I would choose words carefully if I were you, human,” she spoke with malice clear in her voice. “It is easy to end what my soldier started.”

She unceremoniously let go of your neck, and your legs gave out as soon as they touched the ground. You coughed, trying to regain your breath, and McCoy ran to your side, shouting things that simply escaped your comprehension. You looked up only after feeling a light touch on your shoulder. More than whatever semblance there was before, worry now occupied all of the doctor’s features as he helped you up, yet again.

“What the hell are you thinking?” He asked, barely above a whisper, slowly going upstairs again.

“Bold of you to assume I’m thinking at all,” your reply came as a flat whisper and you leaned against his body every few steps. “I’m beyond exhausted at this point, and whatever filters I once had are gone.”

You glanced back at the four aliens walking behind you and, more specifically, to their commander further away. They at least weren’t forcing you to walk all the way back to the weapons test facility. As soon as you reached the top of the stairs, the group spread and presumably searched the rooms, their usual clattering echoing as they walked into the next one.

The only decidedly different noise came from within the comm room. You and McCoy were shoved inside with the gentleness of a Klingon, and the doctor was pried away from you at gunpoint. Without any support, it became considerably difficult to maintain your balance alone, but that problem was short-lived.

The two of you were hastily but firmly tied down to the closest chairs. Your grunts and complaints of pain were largely ignored, and you swore under your breath after they were done. You had no time for further musings, however, as your chair was pulled back and turned around.

You were once again looking at that bug-faced commander, and you could tell that she was staring back, as serious as ever. “I will go directly to the point, Doctor Reed. We are interested in the weapon that was developed here,” she poked your abdomen with the gun she carried, “Since this is clearly some prototype.”

You couldn't help the small smile that formed on the corner of your mouth. “Now that's true Vurtas culture,” you commented. “First, you are assuming it’s finished, and second, that I'd just tell you where to find it.”

“Consider it, Doctor.” She backed away from you and turned to the door. “It could well save your life.”

And without a word after that, she left. “Asshole,” you muttered as soon as the door closed. You had a pretty good idea of what would follow. These war-oriented peoples were, in the end, mostly the same.

“Reed.”

“I can't give what I don't have,” you rested your head against the chair, “But I can damn well drag this out.”

“Do you even realize what's going on?” McCoy's voice had an agitated edge to it, but you couldn't blame him; You were feeling rather exasperated yourself.

“You can't overpower a species that relies on firepower and numbers,” you tried to keep your voice level and your body still. “But you can certainly outsmart one that uses nothing else.”

“And that's what you're trying to do?”

You shook your head. “As if I am thinking straight enough for that,” you said with a quiet chuckle. “I… I guess I'm just trying to buy time.”

“I don't think getting yourself killed is going to do either of us any good, _Doctor_.” There was a new, probably warranted harshness in his voice, but all it did was cause you to let out a shaky breath in what would be a sigh.

“I'll be fine.”

It was clear as day that he wanted to say something, to argue why you shouldn't go through with it, but whatever made him stay quiet provided the small peace you needed in order to brace yourself. The silence seemed to last an eternity but still not nearly enough when the door opened again. Your shoulders stiffened as you kept your full attention on the commander walking in until she was steps away from you.

“Doctors,” she greeted, “I hope you thought about your situation carefully.” You weren't sure what you expected, but all your silence got you was a small, unexpected clatter of her extra pair of mandibles; Some weird form of laughter that was nothing but unsettling. “Of course, you would rather do this the hard way.” She extended a hand to the side. “So be it.”

One of the four soldiers walked in and carefully placed a metallic object on her hand. You could recognize it as what she had when you found McCoy, something that looked even more like brass knuckles once you were seeing it up close.

“Old-fashioned beating,” you tilted your head slightly, “I suppose I can handle that.” You could feel the doctor staring a hole through the side of your head, but his presence was the least of your concerns once the first attack connected, as swift as their others.

It was a hard punch, and you were sure something cracked inside your mouth. There was a tingling sensation on your cheekbone afterward, and your heart was already hammering against your chest.

The commander seemed incredibly pleased when you turned to look at her, but that expression was the only thing you saw before another punch hit your face, and, bloody hell, it hurt. You were doing your best to hold in the grunts of pain, but you had no idea whether you were being successful.

They gave you no time. An impact to your stomach took all the air out of your lungs and trying to regain your breath seemed, somehow, more painful. No way it was a fist that hit you. What were those brass knuckles even made of?

Someone was talking, but you couldn’t make out what they were saying through the ringing in your head that all that pain was causing. Another impact pushed your head upward, and your breathing was even more difficult than before.

“–ince them to cooperate, Doctor.” The commander was the one talking, it seemed. You blinked the water on your eyes away and lowered your head to look at her, or whoever was in front of you. She grinned mischievously and then turned to McCoy. “I can't guarantee their survival, after all.”

“Just let them breathe.” You realized that your open-mouth breathing was quite audible, and that was probably what McCoy was referring to in his harsh tone.

Without words, the insectoid group left. You breathed as deeply as you could, assessing what was in pain and what was not. You could only assume you looked really bad if how you felt was anything to go by.

“Regretting your choices yet?” McCoy asked, stern. You shrugged. “They are not stopping, you know? The last thing you need right now is another broken bone.”

You hummed in acknowledgment, and he sighed. You slowly leaned against the chair once again and turned to McCoy. He was still staring at you and still tense. You rolled your eyes but decided that you were better off without the silence.

“So,” you started after spitting some blood to the side. “How shitty do I look?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “Like you’re stuck in a nightmare, maybe.”

You huffed a laugh. “Then I’ve definitely had worse days.” McCoy didn’t reply, but you really couldn’t stand the silence. “You’re nothing like him,” you spoke softly, and your exhaustion became clear at that moment. The doctor raised an eyebrow, and although you weren’t sure whether it was for your tired tone or what you said, you continued: “Firstly,” you paused briefly. “Firstly, you are a doctor, and that’s already different enough.”

“What the hell are you on about?” There was a degree of worry once again, under that look of grumpiness. “If you wanna talk, try to make some sense.”

“Khan. Augments.” You spat out the first words that came to your mind.

There was a beat of silence, and McCoy furrowed his brows. “Do you actually believe I'm somehow related to Khan?”

“Section 31 does.”

“Do _you_?”

You shook your head. “You're too nice for that.”

“I could be faking it,” he said with a chuckle.

“Leonard McCoy, you can barely keep a surprise party a secret. I'm impressed by the fact you've stayed incognito at all.” He laughed at that comment, and part of the weight in the comm room seemed to dissipate. “You're a good person and _nothing_ like Khan.”

“Well, thanks for that.” His expression turned soft for a moment, before he continued, “I'm also some fifty years younger, so, you know, separate events.”

“Fifty years… 21st century?” You asked in disbelief. He nodded. “That's… Sleeping?”

The lightness left his features almost instantly. “I guess it would've been easier like that.”

After a moment of silently watching him minutely fidget on his chair, you breathed in the best you could for one last question. If he really lived through two centuries, there was just one thing you felt like you needed to know. “Who were you? Back then, I mean?”

The silence dragged on for a moment longer, cut only by the doctor’s sharp intake of breath as the rope that tied his wrists finally fell to the ground. He passed a hand over a wrist, and you could see the bruise fading once again. He glanced at you, almost as if he was considering what to tell you. He sighed and turned to the ropes binding his feet to the chair.

“A soldier,” he finally started. “Pretty bad excuse of occupation, let me tell you.” You were looking at him with as much attention as you could afford, and he briefly met your gaze. “Just some guy called John Grimm.”

He sounded somewhat detached from the memory but it was one from 200 years prior, you couldn’t blame him. “Grimm as in…” You stopped briefly as he turned an expecting look to you. “As in those fairytales writers?”

He finished untying the rope on his feet far more quickly. He stretched for a very short moment before getting up and walking over to you with an amused expression. “Is that really the first thing you thought of?” He crouched beside you and started undoing knots you had completely forgotten about on your own feet.

“My grandad was a fan of old classics,” you replied, carefully watching him. He smiled briefly and it was enough to ease some of the tension in you. “Why, what do people think about?”

“With a name like Grimm and a codename like Reaper, you get one chance to guess.” He said jokingly.

“Oh,” you gasped softly after connecting two and two and you were admittedly a little embarrassed for not realizing it as soon as it was brought up. You pondered silently for a second. “You're not a grim reaper.”

“Not anymore, anyway,” he said flatly, moving from your side to your back after he finished untying your legs. “I'd suggest stretching a little, but be gentle with your left leg.”

“Why the legs?” You made small movements in order to get rid of the numbness, but you tried to move the left side of your body the least you could. “Hands would be more useful.”

“Yeah, and you trying to untie your own legs would put an even bigger strain on your wound than sitting like this already does.” He was sounding like the usual McCoy again, a mix of grumpiness and concern. You rolled your eyes, finally stretching your right leg forward.

“Why?” You asked, trying to look at him the best you could. He looked up and although you couldn't see his face well, the pause in his movement prompted you to continue. “I see no reason to take a plasma shot for someone who'd just give away who you are.”

McCoy got up once he was done with the rope, which didn't take long either, and you instinctively rubbed your wrists. In the end, what were some other bruises and red spots in the grand scheme of things of that day? He didn’t answer your question and instead brought you up to your feet yet again. He walked to the door slowly, in consideration of your injuries, and the slight changes in his expression didn’t go unnoticed once again.

“You’re also just aggravating your injury, Leonard.” He stopped a few steps away from the door and looked at you as if you had caught him red-handed. “Don’t even try to–”

“No idea what you’re talking about,” he interrupted, barely feigning ignorance. He continued walking, and you let go of the argument for the moment. You had seen that determined look before and there was no dissuading someone like that.

Slowly and silently, the two of you walked down the corridor. You frowned as he took you past the stairs and toward the end of the corridor, to the furthest room. Some things had been turned around, but it didn’t seem as though any of the Vurtas soldiers spent much time inside.

The doctor only let you go so he could lock the door, and even then, it was for a very brief moment. He led you to the bed and tried to get you to lie down, but you offered enough resistance that he begrudgingly gave you some space.

“My god, how stubborn can you be?” He rolled his eyes, standing like a wall in front of you. “You need to stop moving for the sake of your leg.”

There was a beat of silence before you spoke. “I really don't get why you're doing this.” He sighed and paced around the room. “Why would you keep risking your damn neck to keep me alive?”

“ _Maybe_ because this looks like some suicide mission?” He started and, before you could reply, continued with another question. “Or maybe because I dragged you out here? Hell, probably both.” There was something new in his voice that you couldn’t quite place. After a sigh, he stopped and turned to you again. “You’re not dying if I can help it,” he gestured toward your hip, “And a nice first step would be stopping that bleeding.”

You looked down at yourself and the bandages were in fact bloodied, more than you had noticed before. You raised your hands in defeat, and McCoy walked over. “I still think it’s a waste of time,” you noted, slowly lying down.

“And you said that I’m the one with the death wish?”

“Yeah.”

He had the gentlest touch you could remember, both as he helped you lie down and as he pulled your uniform up in order to take a look at the bandages. He was silent as he took off his uniform shirt, almost effortlessly ripping apart a piece of the sleeve that he then threw to you. “Nose,” he said flatly, and you knew what he meant. You flinched at your own touch, however, not expecting to find such a sore area on your face.

“You… You weren’t kidding when you said it was bad,” you took the cloth away from your face to speak, a good portion of it already darker because of blood.

“What, you don’t trust your current commanding officer and doctor?” He asked with a half smile. He had ripped the remainder of his uniform open in order to wrap it around your hip, in some improvised bandaging.

“I’ve made a point of… Not trusting my superior officers.” You didn’t meet his gaze, and you had a feeling you didn’t need to. He slowly wrapped the straps of his uniform around you, and you could see, under the short-sleeved black undershirt, a number of scars on his arms. You reached out to the one on his left forearm and he briefly stopped to look at you. “There are more than I expected.”

“Yeah, well,” he continued tying up the straps around your hip, “Not everything can be perfect.”

McCoy finished up in silence, and not once you turned to look at him. You tried getting up as soon as he walked away from the bed, but he was quick to turn around and hold you down.

“We can't stay,” your voice came out weaker than you would have liked, but as long as it was heard, you didn't care. “They'll get here and it’ll be worse.”

“You’ve been fighting to stay conscious for hours,” he sat on the corner of the bed closest to your head, “You need to just stop and rest, even if it's for just five minutes.”

There was no winning that argument, and you didn't know whether you wanted to fight him on it anyway. You let your eyes close even though it wasn't the safe environment you were hoping for. Your breathing evened out, shallow but slow and steady. The only thing that improved seemed to be the pain on your rib cage, but that was not something that lasted either.

It was as though your back was on fire. You tried turning to your side, but all it did was worsen the pain. You turned to lie on your back again, only to quickly turn to the other side and wince in pain as soon as your hip touched the bed. There wasn't enough air in your lungs and your breathing had picked up its pace once again. A firm grip on your waist and shoulder turned you around and the hand that was on your waist moved up to cup your cheek almost immediately.

“Hey, easy. Take it easy,” McCoy spoke softly as you tried to get away from his touch. Of course it was the doctor, the door was locked. No one was coming in anytime soon. You took a deep, calming breath in spite of the aching in your torso and you let yourself be brought up to an almost sitting position. “What the hell just happened?”

“Couldn’t breathe,” you said flatly. You rested your head against his chest and since there were no complaints from his part, you gave yourself a second chance to relax a little. “Sorry.”

The doctor’s only reply was to wrap an arm around your waist, distant enough from your wound as to not cause any more pain, but just in the right place to keep you from sliding back down on the bed. The sounds that eventually came up around you were not enough to force you to open your eyes, but the sudden absence of the warm body that had been holding you did cause you to mutter some questions. But you couldn’t make out what those voices were replying to you.

The darkness around you grew progressively warmer, and eventually, the humming of engines, as well as the beeping of a vitals monitor, invaded your thoughts. You were out of Serin, or at least no longer around Vurtas. No, it definitely had to be out of Serin, the planetside medbay was deactivated. A pair of voices were talking around you, but it took you a moment to find the strength to open your eyes. You breathed relieved from seeing the well-known walls of the Enterprise’s medbay.

“You’re finally awake,” a soft voice – Chapel’s voice – spoke beside you, and you turned to her as she finished a checkup. You must have had the question all over your features since she merely glanced to your right. “Yeah, alright, you have a point.”

You followed her gaze and, yep, there he was. McCoy was sitting on the chair next to the bed with the same kind of smirk you had seen earlier that day. “Told you they were too stubborn to stay asleep.”

“Taking guesses as to when I’d wake up?” You forced yourself up, and although your hip didn’t hurt as bad as before, the discomfort was still there. “At least tell me you had that shoulder looked at.”

“As a matter of fact,” he crossed his arms, “That happened to be one of the first things you mumbled about when the captain showed up, what, sixteen hours ago?”

You quickly looked him up and down. “And you’re still off duty.” He raised an eyebrow at the non-question you gave him, and you couldn’t help but smile. “You’d be the one doing the doctoring if you could.” You looked back at Chapel, who watched the conversation with an amused smile. “And, well, I can see a bit of the bandage.”

“Truth be told, he shouldn’t be here.” Her challenging tone didn’t escape your ears. “He should be in his quarters if anything.”

McCoy sighed, rolling his eyes. You looked back and forth at the two for a brief moment before asking, “What is it between you two?” Startled expressions didn’t quite cover it. “You’re extremely close, and don’t even try to say it’s my imagination, everyone can see it,” you blurted out. “Pretty sure I heard some rumors about you two being a couple or something.”

The stuttered denials and panicked glances they exchanged made you laugh. “God, no, that's… That’d just be weird,” Chapel concluded, visibly nervous. “He’s uh, he’s my boss and all.”

“Working with family then,” you continued, looking at neither of them and not at all trying to hide the smirk you had. “That’s interesting.”

“What are you…” Chapel trailed off and instead turned a glare to McCoy. “How?”

“Great,” he groaned, “So that’s where you were getting at.” He ignored Chapel’s glare to instead glare at you. “Well, you did it,” he tried to hide his amusement under the usual grumpiness, but that was hardly fooling anyone. “Sam, this is Reed. Reed, this is Samantha, my sister.”

You furrowed your brows. “Well, not what I was expecting,” you noted.

She seemed ready to throw something across the room at him, and maybe she still would, but she was willing to let you tell your story and try to clear McCoy of the blame. You’d still have a lot to explain to the captain and Starfleet, but there were some advantages in ignoring Admiral Harris’ orders like, for example, meeting the Grimm brothers.

**Author's Note:**

> I am aware I did not address the source of the gun, but this is a plotline that earned its place elsewhere, where I feel it will be more relevant. So, it'll be addressed there. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed my longest piece of work to date! And in case you feel like screaming at me, here is my [tumblr!](http://weresilver-in-space.tumblr.com/)


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